


you look like an accident

by Aroundthepen (keithkohgane)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, What's new, it's just a mission tbh nothing big, keith's falling hard, lance doesn't know he is, so a little shippy but mostly just oblivious lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7540309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithkohgane/pseuds/Aroundthepen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes the mission takes a left turn</p>
            </blockquote>





	you look like an accident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chatstronaut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatstronaut/gifts).



> this was a tumblr prompt from [chatstronaut](http://chatstronaut.tumblr.com) but it turned out way long so i decided to shove it up here too.
> 
> the prompt was “You look like an accident” + pairing of my choice. i thought this had klance written all over it so here you go have a crushing keith and oblivious lance. it’s not that shippy but it’s definitely there.
> 
> (rated T because there’s one part that’s slightly suggestive but that’s only because lance is gross. mild violence/gore. mild swearing.)

Allura has hardly landed the Castle of Lions on the planet’s surface before Coran picks up the distress signal from a nearby city. Lance’s legs bounce with restless energy, his pulse already jumping.

Since they’d reunited after the accident in the wormhole, she’s wary to put her paladins in direct contact with Zarkon immediately after. Lance thinks thinks it’s ridiculous that they’re waiting so long to go after him, but he’s consoled that they aren’t doing nothing. Allura has taken to roaming galaxies and solar systems all over the universe under Zarkon’s control.

“Paladins,” she says, calling for their attention. Lance shakes the stars out of his eyes at her fierce expression. Sure, he’s not serious anymore when he flirts with her, but it’s hard not to fall a little in love with the princess when she looks so commanding. Even Shiro looks like he’s swooning.

Huh. Commanding. That’s pretty kinky for the hour of the morning.

He snorts to himself.

“The Galra forces are guarding vital information of their trading routes that we could use. Infiltration of these routes would aid greatly in a stealthy attack on Zarkon’s forces.” She takes a deep breath and frowns before continuing. “Shiro and Hunk, I want you in your lions and on the offence. You’re the distraction.” They nod and she turns to Lance, Pidge, and Keith. “Keith and Lance, you are to cover for Pidge while they sneak into the information centre. Remember: stealth is key to the success of this mission.”

“Don’t worry princess,” Lance smiles. “My many late night adventures at the Garrison taught me a thing or two about stealth. And about the ladies.”

He winks.

The team groans and Lance grins at the reaction. His eyes flick to Keith, who’s glare seems a little harsh for the offence, even for Keith. It almost makes Lance squirm.

“Long-range?” he asks him, trying to dispel his own discomfort.

Keith doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns away. He will stick to Pidge and Lance will stick to sniping. He’ll stay as a look-out.

He finds that the thought doesn’t bother him anymore. There was a time he might have argued his position, wanting to be in the very thick of it in Keith’s position. He’d want to fight close-range and he’d want to show that he could do it better than Keith.

But as a seasoned and incredible paladin, he understands his role in this situation. Besides, no one else can snipe like he can. Not even Keith Kogane.

Shiro puts on his helmet. “All right team, let’s go.”

Adrenaline pumping in his veins, Lance follows Shiro, Keith, and Pidge into the black lion.

Shiro drops them off a few blocks away from the Galra information centre, behind a skyscraper made of an ambiguous metal material. The streets are eerily quiet. It makes Lance’s skin crawl.

Keith and Lance sandwich Pidge between them wordlessly. Which is strange. The silence is bothering Lance.

“Try not to screw it up, Keith,” he says.

Keith hardly looks at him. “Likewise, Lance.”

Something about the coolness of his tone strikes Lance as unusual.

When Shiro and Hunk begin their attack they creep as silently and invisibly as they can toward their goal.

Lance trains his stare on the back of Keith’s neck, studying the bare skin that used to be covered by his mullet. The curling ends would peek out from under his helmet like little kitten paws.

He’d cut his hair recently as a result of a Galra soldier burning his hair with a - wicked - sort of flame thrower. Lance admits he almost misses the mullet. At least that was easy to make fun of. Now Keith looks human. He kind of resembles the guys in his sister’s magazines.

Well he would if he smiled. But god knows that only happens once in a blue moon. The last time Keith it happened was a week ago, and Lance had to tell  _ thirteen jokes  _ to even crack a crooked smile.

Keith insulted him mercilessly for the jokes later - they weren’t his best, Lance admits that - but the victory was worth it.

“Lance, watch it!”

Pidge yanks Lance back behind the pillar they’re hiding behind and his back slams against the wall of a building. The air whooshes out of his lungs.

“What are you doing?” Keith hisses at him. “You almost blew it.” 

Pidge elbows him in the gut. “Yeah, man. Aren’t you supposed to be the one watching  _ our _ backs?”

Shame rises in Lance but he tries to ignore it, adjusting his gun in his hands. “But I didn’t, Keith.”

The three of them watch as a pair of Galra soldiers patrol past, their footsteps echoing off the tarmac. Lance’s stomach flips unpleasantly.

Keith glares at him. “That’s not the point, idiot.”

Yeah, the is that Pidge could’ve been hit on his watch and it would’ve been his fault. Something cold grips his spine and he shivers.

“Relax, Keith,” Lance yawns, stretching theatrically, trying to shrug away his shame. “Stop spoiling all the fun.”

Keith looks like he’s about to argue when Pidge butts in.

“Let’s just keep going,” they say, brandishing their bayard. “Shiro and Hunk can’t hold out forever.”

They all wait for the guards to turn a corner before shuffling as quickly and quietly as they can into the centre. It’s a maze of twisting purple corridors and crawling with Galra soldiers, but Pidge hacks into the security and basic information feeds and within a few minutes they’re scurrying along with a floor plan and real time information of where the guards are. Pidge even manages to make the cameras glitch whenever they come into contact with them.

That adrenaline rush from before comes flooding back in Lance and he grins at the thrill of danger, the risk of a fight, the kick of competition.

When they make it to the controls room Pidge wastes no time time in heading straight for the main computer. They take the operating Galra by surprise and fry her with their bayard.

Lance and Keith work in tandem to free the rest of the room of Galra soldiers, shooting and slicing through them like they’re both two hands on one person. The Galras will attack Keith and get an unexpected blast in the chest, or they’ll attack Lance from afar and be sliced in half the next second.

He and Keith communicate effortlessly, ducking and swiping and shooting cleanly and rhythmically, like it’s just another training session.

“You keeping up, Keith?” Lance shouts into the fray, but it’s so much less the insult this time and so much more a exclamation of fun.

“You know it!” Keith throws a Galra soldier over his shoulder in one swift motion and stabs him in the chest. Wow. Lance will have to convince him to teach him that technique someday. “I’m way ahead.”

Lance even laughs a bit.

Ass. Kicking. Paladins. Enough said.

When the last Galra falls, Lance grins at Keith in the flush of their battle won.

“Good job team,” he pants, because it’s a thing now. He actually reaches across to cuff Keith ever so lightly on the jaw.

Keith rolls his eyes at Lance but he smiles because that’s his thing for Lance’s thing now. His cheeks are glowing pink from exertion and his eyes are bright. A few strands are falling into his eyes. They annoy Lance a little, he wants to push them back.

“I’m in!” Pidge calls from the controls, coding flashing across the screen in about five different languages Lance doesn’t understand.

“You forgot to use your hacker voice,” he says and Pidge throws him a distracted smile over their shoulder.

He stations himself at the door as a look-out, feeling Keith move to Pidge’s side, his shield humming in the tense silence. The hallway is empty and Lance’s foot starts tapping in the inaction. He tries to concentrate on looking out for any movement or unusual sound but he has the unmistakable feeling he’s being watched back. He thought he was twitchy before.

He ducks his head down to the lens on his gun, trying to see if there’s something he’s missing with his naked eye, but there’s nothing there. Still, the feeling prickles on the nape of his neck. His whole leg is bouncing maniacally now.

“Lance, why are being so weird?” Keith says in a deadpan. Which is of course code for  _ Lance, are you okay? _

He looks around to him. “I don’t know. Something feels... off.”

Keith just frowns. Which is code for  _ elaborate _ .

He’s about to tell him about his feeling of being watched, but hesitates at the last second. Keith would probably see this as a weakness - this inability to focus completely on the plan. Besides, it’s probably nothing, and if he gets distracted again he could let everyone down. Again.

“It’s nothing,” he says, turning back around to the hallway. “Forget it.”

“Lance?”

He shakes his head and lifts his gun back up again. “How much longer, Pidge?”

“Fifty six seconds.”

“Roger.”

Lance grins to himself. One of the best things about being a paladin, even being in the Garrison, was that he got to say “roger” in a real situation.

He senses Keith picking his way over Galra soldiers towards him.

“Seriously,” Keith says in a low voice beside him. “Did you see something?”

“Quiznak, Keith.” He looks down through his scope again, grappling for an excuse. “It’s just the smell.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Some of the Galra soldiers are still smoking from where Lance shot them, the acrid smell of burnt flesh filling the air. It’s the one thing he can’t get used to. He doubts he ever will.

He feels Keith nod and leave his side. He turns around a moment later when he hears Keith dragging something heavy across the floor of the control room and sees him piling the Galrans in the corner opposite.

“Keith.”

Keith looks up at him - one Galra soldier slung over his shoulder, one tucked under his arm; how is that fair in any universe like really - and quirks an eyebrow.  _ Yeah? _

Lance gestures widely. “Now is not the time for a workout!”

Keith frowns. “I know that.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I just thought… the smell.” He shoves the two Galras he’s holding onto the pile behind him.

Lance blinks. Is Keith doing something nice for him? He’s getting that frustrated blush again, god knows why.

A triumphant whoop sounds from the controls board.“Done!”

Lance looks at them. “Great. Now let’s -”

The sound of a laser blast cuts him off, the harsh purple light blinding in the small space. A cry echoes in the debris and smoke. Lance launches himself at Pidge, trying to shield them as much as he can and simultaneously looking for the source of the blast.

“Are you hurt?” he asks them gruffly

“No,” they cough. “Keith!”

_ Shit. _

When the smoke clears enough, Lance sees him. On his knees and cradling his side with one arm and wielding his sword at the Galra soldier who shot him with the other.

“Keith!” he shouts, sprinting to him.

He stores his bayard and catches him with both hands, holding him up as best he can. There’s a nasty, gaping wound in his right side, just under his ribcage. His armour took the most of it, but at point blank range the laser managed to burn into his skin and leave him with a sizable laceration. It’s all ragged and burnt at the edges, but the deepest part is bleeding heavily and quickly.

“Madre de Díos,” he breathes. “ _ Shit. _ ”

Lance tries, he  _ really, really _ tries, not to panic.

He should be inured to these kinds of things by now, but anyone could tell you it doesn’t get easier. And seeing it happen to Keith, someone who’s always supposed to win, is rattling. Lance is frozen.

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit - _

Keith groans and leans into his hold.

“We need to go,” he says through gritted teeth. Lance nods automatically but doesn’t move. Keith’s face is pulled taut in pain, sweat shining on his brow. His breaths are shallow and he’s growing really pale, really fast. His eyes are drooping.

_ How can this be happening shit shit shit shit shit god Keith oh god - _

“Lance!”

Pidge’s cry cuts clean through the panic rising in his head.

“Right,” he says. There’s no way Keith will be able to walk. He bends to lean his shoulder at Keith’s waist, lifting him up and grabbing his gun. Keith’s cry of pain sends a cold terror town Lance’s spine, something spiking awfully in his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters. He shifts Keith until he’s as comfortable as he can be, but Keith is in no position to be anything but a dead weight. He’s already sweating with the effort - or is it panic - and they need to move fast. “Pidge take the lead.” He opens his comm line with Shiro and Hunk. “Man down! We need an extraction!”

Shiro responds immediately, calm and cool and collected. Lance motions at Pidge to get moving; he’ll follow. “On it. Hunk take the front. I’ll be coming around the front of the centre, Lance. ETA: two minutes.” A touch of worry colours his voice. “How bad is it?”

The image of Keith’s side floats in front of his eyes and he blinks it away. “Get Coran to ready one of those cryopods.”

Shiro’s hesitation hangs heavy. “Roger.”

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit - _

With Pidge in the lead and Lance shooting at whatever guards he can, they make it to the front of the information centre miraculously unscathed. Keith doesn’t cry out in pain as Lance runs but his shallow breaths somehow make it worse. All sorts of scenarios rush through his mind, but the one that makes Lance’s own breathing cut off is the worst.

What the hell is he going to do if they can’t get him to the ship in time?

_ No. _ They’ve always been okay, they’ve always managed. Shiro would never let anything happen to Keith.

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit - _

Nothing can happen to him. Lance’s world would start unravelling.

The black lion lands heavily in front of them and its mouth opens. Shiro’s voice is beckoning them inside. Lance waits for Pidge to climb in and runs as fast as he can with Keith on his shoulder, setting him down in the cockpit. He props him up against the wall, keeping a tight hold on Keith’s shoulders as Pidge hands him some gauze to staunch the bleeding.

“Don’t worry, Lance,” Shiro says from the pilot seat, taking off for the castle. “He’s going to be just fine.”

“I’m not worried,” Lance spits, trying to avoid rubbing too hard against the wound.

They’re going to be fine.

“You kind of look a little worried,” says a weak voice.

Maybe it’s out of panic, maybe out of relief, but a breathy laugh escapes him. He meets Keith’s eyes - they’re hardly open and getting dull, so dull - and smiles.

“And you look like an accident,” he replies, “but I wasn’t going to say anything.

The corners of Keith’s lips lift the smallest amount and Lance feels his heart rate easing. Keith’s hand bumps against Lance’s knees and Lance squeezes his shoulder in return.

“Good job, team,” Keith says and it coaxes a shaky smile from Lance.

“Hey. I thought that was my thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://lancmcclaine.tumblr.com), maybe reblog the [post](http://lancmcclaine.tumblr.com/post/147692643839/you-look-like-an-accident), maybe tell me what you thought, idk whatever you're feeling


End file.
